Jeff’s Dark and Early Blog

What a football season, and it’s not even November!

I can’t even count the number of times I’ve been out talking to fans about what many of them refer to as “the train wreck”, also know as this Kansas City Chiefs’ season.

They all believe it will get better, but one of them uttered something I once thought I would never hear….”I miss Marty-ball”.

Now there was a term that took me back to a time when I wore a younger man’s clothes.

“Marty-ball”, of course, refers to the days when Marty Schottenheimer ran this team.  It was a conservative, field-position, defense-oriented philosophy, coupled with the west-coast offense once Paul Hackett and Joe Montana came to town.  Every year, you could count on the Chiefs winning at least 9 or 10 ballgames, often more like 12 or 13.  And every year, you could count on the team to bring the hopes of its fans to new heights, only to send them crashing to the floor once the playoffs began.

I can’t even tell you how many times my friends and family called for Marty’s termination following another gut-wrenching loss to Denver or some other post-seaon opponent.  (It seems like it was usually Denver)

But now, several head coaches later, it sort of makes you miss old Marty-ball.  To the Chiefs fan sitting on the couch last Sunday, watching the Chargers run all over the “Texans” 37-7, winning 9, 10, maybe 13 games sounded pretty darn good.

I firmly believe Coach Haley will make a winner out of this organization.  But for now, perhaps for the first time since it left, Marty-ball is missed in Kansas City.

I don’t get star struck.

Once you’ve been in the radio industry for awhile, you assume you’re going to meet or talk to a lot of famous people.

I’ve met Presidents, television and movie stars, famous chefs, even a man who dresses as a chicken mcnugget for a living.  None of that really phases me.  Except for maybe the chicken guy.

But when we had Bob Gibson on the air a few weeks ago, I have to say, nostalgia got the better of me.

When my dad was a kid, before the Royals made their way into the hearts of Kansas City, the Cardinals were the team.  Sure, a few folks rooted for the A’s.  But let’s face it, the tradition of the St. Louis ball club spread well beyond the borders of the city with the arch.  So it should make sense when I tell you that I was literally put to bed as a child with stories of Tim McCarver, Lou Brock and the great Bob Gibson.

My dad grew up without a father.  The circumstances surrounding that are private, but when it came to learning how to be a man, dad had to find other heroes to look up to.  One of those heroes was Gibson.  He was hard-nosed on the mound, with a competitive streak rarely matched by the players in the game today.  And off the field, as his interview with KMBZ indicated, he was and is the picture of the true gentleman.  He speaks with wisdom without coming off as arrogant.

For me, the mystique that surrounds the game of baseball begins with those stories of Bob Gibson and the Cardinals of the 1960’s.  I think my love for the game, at its deepest measure, comes from the passion with which my father described those teams.

It was radio, and the broadcasts of Harry Caray and Jack Buck that caused Dad to fall in the love with the game.  More than 40 years later, it was radio that brought his son closer to those memories.

Before his days as Pittsburg, Kansas’ friendliest mailman, my dad was in radio.  He even had a talk radio program in the days before talk radio was popular.  I can remember listening to his radio stories as a young boy and thinking that broadcasting might be a cool career to get involved in.

“It’s a good career if you’re single,” Dad told me.  “Not so much if you’re married.”

Well, as was often the case, the son did not heed the father’s advice.  I am married.  Very much so.  And I am still very much in radio.

Fortunately, my wife doesn’t mind playing the role of bread-winner.

But now that I’ve got a young son, I often catch myself wondering if he’ll follow in the footsteps of dad and grand-dad.

If I had to venture a guess, I’d say probably not.

Unlike his old man, Ethan is a quiet kid.  If you watch closely, you can see in his eyes that he’s learning something new every minute.  He doesn’t say anything, but you know.

When I was his age, I was already well on my way to being the family’s self-appointed motor mouth.  I’ve always been the guy who can talk about anything and do it for hours.  That’s why radio fits me.

Ethan is more like his mom in that regard.  Intelligent, reserved, cautious.  So special.

I would never go as far as to venture a guess as to what he’ll be.  The future is wide open, and I stand behind him whatever road he goes down.

If radio is in his future, so be it.  But while his father is the journalist, it’s up to him to write his life, not me.

I hadn’t planned on blogging today.  It’s a Monday, we’ve got some people out sick, and I’ve got a lot to get done before quitting time.  I hadn’t planned on blogging today.  Then, I met the magician.

I was making my usual morning rounds at coffee shops, diners and doughnut joints when I came across a gentleman I hoped would be interesting in talking about “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell”, the big story in the news at the time.

He politely informed me that he wasn’t interested in talking about the subject, but let me know that he was a magician.  I smiled as politely as I could and began to walk away.  That’s when he made a straw float around the room, followed by his coffee mug.

I ran away.

I’m not sure what to call them, other than “Obamaments”.

I’m referring to the commentary I received on the street this morning following the surprising announcement that the President had received the Nobel Peace Prize.

The views of liberals and conservatives alike ranged from congratulatory to critical.  But everyone seemed to agree that the news was catching them off guard.

As always, however, I also ran into my share of comics.  Here now, are just a few of the hilarious reactions from earlier today…

“I think he should also receive the Cy Young…..and the Heisman…..and…..children’s book of the year!”

“I think he got the award because his voice is smooth, like an old time jazz musician.”

“He’s been in office for ten months and they gave him the cookie?  The big, cream filled cookie?  Why?”

“Maybe the award is incentive for him to accomplish something in the coming months.  Like a credit card for peace!”

Hope you enjoyed those as much as I did.  You can hear them live throughout the day on KMBZ.

He is the international man of mystery.  He is the voice of reason in a time of uncertainty.

Actually, he’s just a dude at Denny’s.

At four in the morning, when I’m trying to get public opinion on a particular issue, I often start at Denny’s.  It’s a 24-hour breakfast joint, there’s always someone having coffee or eggs, and they usually don’t mind having a conversation with the radio guy.

And on Thursday mornings, even if the rest of Denny’s is completely dead, I can always count on one man.

I will leave out his name for reasons of privacy, but I can tell you that the man you see pictured above is the ultimate jack of all trades.  He can talk news, sports, more news and then some.

Do you remember Wilson on the 90’s sitcom “Home Improvement”?  Aside from a fence covering his face, this guy is him.

He shares life advice, he shares wisdom, and occasionally, he shares a piece of toast.

When I need good audio and I need it fast, I can always count on Wilson.